


The things one learns

by inthegrayworld



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Sex Slave, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 07:36:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13677192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthegrayworld/pseuds/inthegrayworld
Summary: Undercover at a Hutt's slave auction, Rey finds herself the new owner of a rather dazed Ben Solo. Shenanigans ensue.Part of the More Than Love: RFFA Valentine's Exchange 2018.





	The things one learns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PalenDrome (nerdherderette)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdherderette/gifts).



> A Reylo Valentine's gift for PalenDrome. Original prompt had to do with Kylo being sold as a high-priced sex slave, and Rey being intrigued. Hehe, "intrigued" :D. Ended up making this specifically 'Ben Solo' as opposed to 'Kylo Ren', but this was quite fun to write.Thanks for the prompt, and hope you enjoy it.

_I can do this_ , Rey thought to herself. Truth was, she’d rather be anywhere else. Anywhere.   
  
Right now, her discomfort was a secret between herself and the stuffed happabore head mounted over the garishly draped bed. She would have tried looking around the room to distract herself, but between the shelf to the left filled entirely with dildos of various size, level of texturing, and resemblance to either sculptures or hand grenades, and the hanging wall art on the right, covered in what had initially looked like the letters of some obscure alphabet, but on closer impression were diagrams of humanoids in congress with non-humanoids, it was best to just—not look anywhere.  
  
 _Focus_ , she reminded herself. This was still a mission. One of the utmost importance. There was much she had to learn in her role as one of the Resistance’s two resident Force adepts, and among those lessons was that when one was required to wait in the seedy lower chambers of Graff the Hutt’s palace, wearing a silken gown cut far more for distraction than comfort, one did so without giving in to the stomach-lurch that came with realizing that the look on the stuffed happabore’s head suggested the rest of its body was intact through the wall, and being vigorously acted upon by another, larger happabore.  
  
 _Shit_ , she thought, _I can’t do this. I can’t—_  
  
The door behind her opened, and by the time Rey had spun around, a look of imperious smugness had plastered itself to her face.  
  
“Took you long enough,” she snapped.  
  
A Twi'lek with a single worm-like lekku and the most unpleasant teeth Rey had never seen entered the room. He was accompanied by an entourage of short hooded figures with pale hands peeking out of long sleeves.  
  
“We beg your indulgence, Baroness Trios,” the Twi'lek said. “Your purchase required a little wrangling.”  
  
Rey had to make sure that her face did not change at the words “purchase” and “wrangling.”  
  
The Twi’lek made a gesture, and a pair of Gamorrean guards shoved another figure into the room.  
  
In spite of herself, her breath stilled, pulse quickening into a rapid fire beat that echoed in her skull. She wondered how obviously her face burned in the low light.  
  
The slave auction had taken place earlier that evening. One by one they had been brought to the stage in whispers of silk and lace. No chains, just a faraway look in all of their eyes, as though they were all deep in some dream. Rey had made a few perfunctory bids, to keep up appearances. Lot #45 Dathomirian Chocolate. Lot #73 Hoth Stuff. Lot #89 Sal of the Triple Nipples.   
  
And then he had been brought out. There was a brief, intense war with the Abersyn party, but by the end, “Baroness Trios” found herself putting down four million credits for Lot #92 The Jedi Driller.  
  
  
Now, even between the Gamorreans, he was a massive figure. This was not the first time she’d found herself surprised by the planes of his chest, the muscles of his arms. But this time, she did not—could not—look away. They’d put unguents in his hair, and smears of rouge on the corners of his eyes, and in a line from upper lip to chin. She stared with laser focus at the angle the line of his neck dipped into his shoulders. Layers of gauze, flowed down from rings at his elbows, from a fine chain loose at his hips. And that was not an odd shadow right on his crotch, that was his erection.  
  
“Ah yes,” the Twi'lek said. “We are always happy to have satisfied our buyers.”  
  
Rey caught herself breathing through her mouth, stopped. With more effort than she had ever thought possible, she pushed away the sensation that she’d gone terribly stormy between the legs.  
  
“I am not yet satisfied,” she said in cool, clipped tones.  
  
“Indeed. However it is irregular for us to offer samplers before finalization of sales,” the Twi'lek said, voice still even, but Rey sensed the edge underneath.  
  
“What—“ Rey raised an eyebrow. “—You want to charge me extra for taking an early bite?”  
  
“Considering you had never before taken part in his Excellency Graff the Hutt’s auction, my master is terribly curious as to why you were so determined to have your purchase immediately.”  
  
Fresh sweat broke out at Rey’s back. Two Gamorreans, the Twi'lek, four of those cloaked figures—she could take at least half of them down before they even got their bearings—but there was no way she’d make the escape, not with _him_ , when he was like that—  
  
She took two steps towards her “slave”, traced a fingernail up the line of his chest, to the base of his chin.   
  
At her touch, something stirred behind the glazed veneer of his eyes.   
  
She could smell him, she realized. Not the perfumes they’d doused him in—him. The breath and warmth of him.  
  
Rey summoned her most commanding tone. “You can tell his Excellency that I always get what I want, when I want it. And I want this Jedi bastard’s tongue up my cunt.”  
  
She closed her hand around the side of his face, feeling the ridge of the scar she had given him all those years ago.   
  
One of the hooded figures whispered to the Twi'lek in Huttese. Rey kept her face carefully averted, even if growing up on Jakku, Huttese had been her mother tongue.  
  
“Boss, I don’t think it’s any funny business,” the figure whispered. “Bitch is wet as a fucken bantha in heat.”  
  
Rey moved her hand down his side, tracing his ribs, remembering a time she had stood this close to him in the elevator of the Supremacy.  
  
 _Ben_ , she had whispered. _I’ll help you—_  
  
His name was as a spark in her mind - she glanced up and for a moment saw that the same spark had lit up the pits of his eyes.  
  
“Fine—“ the Twi'lek muttered back. “Let’s leave the lovebirds alone.”  
  
He cleared his throat, positioning himself right beside the slave.   
  
“Lot #92,” he said, “This is your master now. Do you understand?”  
  
When Ben remained silent, one of the Gamorreans raised a shock staff.  
  
“No.” Rey’s voice rang like steel, and the Gamorrean actually stepped back. “You will not damage my merchandise.”  
  
“Apologies,” the Twi'lek said. But he leaned in towards Ben, his tone like a lash. “Slave. You will acknowledge she who owns your body.”  
  
Rey was about to tell him to back the fuck off, but then Ben moved.  
  
In a ruffle of gauze, he sank to one knee, gaze never leaving Rey’s face, until he inclined his head down, in supplication.  
  
Rey bit down on her lip savagely.  
  
“You will leave us,” she said, the push of the Force behind her words.  
  
“We will leave you,” the Twi'lek agreed, his voice somewhat faint, but the moment he made for the door, the Gamorreans and the cloaked figures followed, leaving Rey alone with Ben.  
  
The door swung shut behind them, leaving behind the unbearable smell of incense.  
  
Rey’s hand went up the smooth fabric of her skirt, up the slit through which her entire leg peeked through, possessed for the a moment with the notion of just tearing her dress off and taking him right there—he was _right there_ —  
  
But her fingers slipped into the tiny fold right where the slit parted and drew out a cylinder thinner than her pinky. She uncapped the tip, plunged the needle in his neck and squeezed the plunger.  
  
“Ben?” Rey stooped over him, watching his face for any sign that the antidote was working, wondering if he’d just leap up to his feet— _where am I, what the fuck am I wearing—_  
  
A minute passed. It was difficult to place when the numbed, distant look faded, cleared, and it suddenly seemed as though he had never not looked up at her this way, as though he could see far more deeply into her than he should have been able to.  
  
“Are you okay?” Rey asked. “Do you know me?”  
  
He breathed in, turned his head to the side.   
  
“I would know those eyes anywhere,” he said.  
  
Rey felt her stomach do a little flip, a pleasant one. “Great. Do you know where you are?”  
  
He looked down at himself, at the gauze, the oil on his skin. If any of this bothered him, it did not show at all.  
  
“The drugs softened my will, not my senses.”  
  
“Then you know we have to leave.”  
  
Rey took a quick glance at the door.  
  
“I take it you have a plan?” he asked, rising to his feet, reminding her just how tall he was when he stood this close.  
  
“Half a plan,” she said, casually stepping away, plopping down on the edge of the bed.  
  
“Typical.”  
  
“If my timing is right, DJ will be halfway through figuring out the code for the palace’s shields. Around which time, the Hutt’s people are going to figure out that the bank account I gave them is a sham.”  
  
“There’s about a hundred guards outside.”  
  
“Yeah, but between the two of us, it shouldn’t be a problem.”  
  
“Well then,” the tip of his lip stretched out, the way which wasn’t quite a smile. “It seems we have a little time to burn.”  
  
He crouched down before her, where she sat, and a thought entered her mind. It was so reminiscent of the images she herself had conjured in the time he had been brought before her that she didn’t even realize the thought was his, gently tumbled through the Force between them, until it planted seed and blossomed.   
  
Her cheeks went pink.  
  
“Are you fucking mad? Here? Now?”  
  
He had the sense to avert his eyes, but his mouth—well, he did know how to smile after all.  
  
“We are on a mission,” Rey hissed.  
  
“True.”  
  
“This is not the time or place for—shenanigans.”  
  
“True again.”  
  
“They probably put you on some super horny drugs, didn’t they?”  
  
He gave a half-hearted sigh. “They did do that.”   
  
“So why don’t you just jerk off til you can get your head in the game?”  
  
“That would be the most efficient thing,” he said, leaning his chin against his knuckles.  
  
“Faster too.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
And yet—  
  
Rey’s fingers dug into the bed’s sheeny coverings.   
  
“It’s not that—“ Words. Rey had forgotten how to use them. “—I mean, since you defected I had thought, maybe—And then the General started putting us on missions together, but—I wasn’t sure. I mean I felt—“  
  
“I know,” he said softly. “And it’s impossible you don’t know what I feel about you.”  
  
There is a moment when all pretence falls away. It had first occurred between them in the interrogation cell at Starkiller Base. And then again, in a moment outside of time, while he was in the Supremacy and Rey was in Ahch-To, but somehow there had been fire light between them, on the tips of their fingers, barely touching.  
  
And now it was happening here.  
  
Rey breathed deep, thought, I can do this.  
  
She reached out, found his hand, drew it close enough for his fingers to graze the hem of her skirt, but Rey trembled like he had touched skin.  
  
“Then you will give me what I want,” she said. “Now.”  
  
Something came over him that looked so much like rage, but felt entirely different. It made sweet heat surge up Rey’s chest as his one hand grasped her thigh, the other sweeping away the length of her skirt.  
  
Fuck, but she was wet—the air on her cunt was cold, til his breath covered it in warmth, and his mouth was up against the pool between her legs, and he was kissing her deeply.   
  
Rey caught the murmur before it left her throat.   
  
“Your tongue—“ the rest of the sentence drifted off. Somewhere outside the Hutt’s guards may have been pressing their ears to the door but Rey did not care.  
  
His palms went up her knees, her legs, ribs, fingers catching her breasts, brushing against her nipples.   
  
The tip of his tongue slipped against the nub of her clit, touching the sides of it, sliding against the swollen edge. Above, she had touched his hand with hers, and their fingers intertwined.  
  
When his tongue touched the point of her clit, her grip on his hand tightened. Her legs tensed, one foot tracing a strained circle. He must have realized he was doing something right, because he did it again.  
  
“Yes—“ All other thoughts had been flushed away - things about the timing before the alarms went off, and people came to knock down the door - these were concerns for later. “Keep licking me, Ben—“  
  
A new sensation. He had moved his chin aside. It was the fingers of his other hand she could feel against the doorway of her cunt, the pad of his digits pressing just deeply enough to tease the entrance, while his tongue flicked right above it.  
  
Rey gasped, lifted her head up to catch his eyes, the way they swam in soft pleasure, as his tongue continued to move.  
  
In her mind came his thoughts, clear as though he’d whispered them in her ear.  
  
 _May I?_  
  
She laid her head back down. “Do it.”  
  
He pushed a finger up between the lips, purposely slow, so that Rey found herself exhaling, equally slowly, through clenched teeth. It was just a finger. One finger. But she was tight around it, feeling it sliding through her. Tightness took hold of her legs.  
  
“Rey—“ His whisper was warm against her thighs, his thumb pressing against her clit, drawing peals that flooded Rey’s thoughts.   
  
She tried to say his name—couldn’t quite, through the gasp at the very limit of her powers of control. Then came the shuddering, the torrent. The unclenching of her jaw came a bit later.   
  
“Fuck,” she whispered. “That was—wait.“   
  
Rey began rising up. “Let me do you too, please—“  
  
“It’s fine,” he said, languidly resting his head against her knee, his hand on her hip. “There will be time for that later.”  
  
Later. Rey looked down at him and like a sand dune changing shape in the wind knew that they both would never quite be the same again.  
  
He helped her up, still with the glisten of her on his cheek, and Rey learned that that was a sight she could very well get used to.  
  
There were other things to learn, as they both strode out into the corridors of the Hutt’s palace.  
  
First, that the armory was a convenient turn down the corner, and second, that even draped in gauze, with rouge on his face, the warrior previously known as Kylo Ren was still a beast to behold with that blazing red lightsaber in his hand.  
  
They would also learn that Lot #45 Dathomirian Chocolate was pretty handy with a blaster once his shackles were broken, Lot #73 Hoth Stuff could unleash hell with just the broken half of a Gamorrean’s shock staff, and that Lot #89 Sal of the Triple Nipples knew how to coax hitherto unimaginable speeds out of the Hutt’s personal pleasure barge.   
  
But speeding over the desert, towards the rendezvous with the Resistance, the most pressing lesson was this - tucked in the backmost corner of the pleasure barge, sunset-tinged sand flowing past out the window, Rey should have been reminded of nothing but Jakku. But her face against Ben’s shoulder, her back against his knee, and his chin against her forehead, listening to the clatter of the engine, and somewhere beneath it, his calm breath, there was nowhere else she would rather be.  
  



End file.
